


For your eyes only

by Lacertae



Series: Kinktoberfest 2018 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Frottage, Kinktober 2018, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: Kinktober 2018 Day 09 - Doomfist/Zenyatta





	For your eyes only

**Author's Note:**

> i wouldn't be me if i didnt shove doomyatta in this collection either *wiggles eyebrows*

**Day 09 –** ~~Titfucking~~ | **Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles)** | **Bondage** | **Lingerie**

“I do feel like this is rather… wasted, on me,” Zenyatta looks at his crossed legs, observing the way the thin, see-through fabric pools over the metal of his thighs.

“It is not for your view,” Akande replies, the rumble of his voice betraying his amusement. “If you ask someone else… in this case me… you would receive a rather different answer.”

“So you say.”

“Yet, you acquiesced to my request rather easily,” Akande continues, and the way his eyes narrow, his lips tilting upwards, make Zenyatta feel a lick of excitement.

He truly does not understand what Akande sees –all he can think about is the jagged, pointed parts of his uncovered chassis poking awkwardly through the lingerie outfit, and part of him is afraid that if he moves too much, if he bends a leg enough, he will ruin the material. It must be expensive, since it was Akande’s gift, but Zenyatta does not know enough about lingerie to even attempt an estimate.

It does feel good on his chassis, though –the sensors all over his body feel how soft and light the silk is, and enjoy the caress it offers to him.

He sees no appreciable benefit of wearing it but Akande’s gaze, the way his eyes darken when Zenyatta shifts a little, legs still crossed, do make him feel he might be wrong on that.

“Well,” he says, and slowly uncrosses his legs, exposing the way the lingerie panties frame his modesty panel, “if it does please you, I do not see why I should not allow for it.”

The way Akande’s eyes roll down to stare at him, focused for far too long on his modesty panel, make Zenyatta’s processes heat up. “There are more things that would please me,” he says, and the lazy smirk only grows more wicked as he says that, and tugs at the silk fabric holding his arms together, tied behind his back. “I hope you are considering those, as well.”

Zenyatta smiles –he knows Akande could easily undo the knots and free himself, but he seemed as indulgent to acquiesce to Zenyatta’s request as Zenyatta was to wear lingerie for him.

Heat pools inside him as he brushes one hand down his front, caressing exposed cables, circuits and his midsection before palming down the curve of his modesty panel; Akande’s shoulders hitch as he leans forwards, just a little, and his eyes burn through Zenyatta as he continues to run fingers down his front.

His modesty panel isn’t sensitive, but the idea that Akande is watching him without looking away is enough to make Zenyatta shiver –and his modesty panel slides open, baring himself to Akande’s eyes.

Translucent lubrication glistens on the tip of his cock, the lingerie wet and damp as he runs his palms down his inner thighs, pulling at the soft silicone enough that his folds part slightly, allowing Akande a glimpse of the teal slick pooling just barely out of sight, and then he stretches.

Zenyatta might not see the appeal of his lingerie, but he sees the allure it has on Akande –he watches as his muscles bulge a little in strain as Akande tugs on the restraints around his wrists, as if he forgot they are in place in his sudden desire to reach out and touch him, and then he watches as Akande hesitates, fists clenched, watches the tension in those big shoulders, in the way his lips thin.

Akande is too used to being able to touch, to reach out and have what he wants, and now… he can’t.

It makes Zenyatta feel powerful, even more so when he knows how he looks to Akande.

He runs his hands down the underside of his cock, massaging the base, feels how soaked his lingerie is as he teases his sensors like Akande would, and stifles a tiny moan at the thought of those big hands replacing his own, fingers thick enough to fill him even before his cock can, stretching him and undoing him.

Optical receptors fluttering close for a moment, Zenyatta forgets himself –he cups his cock and uses his other hand to push his folds apart, barely, to tease himself more, avoiding his nub to caress his valve until his hand comes out wet and slick and he’s twitching with need, then he blinks and stares at Akande and seizes a little, the intensity of his gaze enough to bring him close to orgasm even if he’s barely started to touch himself.

Akande has shifted closer, pushing his weight forwards, his muscles tense, and he almost towers on Zenyatta, and he can see the pull of his forearms as they try to stay still, not to pull the restraints enough to rip through them.

“Oh,” he murmurs, and his legs twitch. A bead of lubrication rolls down his cock, unimpeded by the lingerie, and Akande’s eyes follow it as he licks his lips.

“Do you plan on having all the fun yourself, without allowing me a taste?” he asks, and there is hunger there, carefully hidden under a casual tone. Zenyatta shudders, and halts his hand, afraid that he will come if he continues to touch himself while Akande speaks.

“I… do not know,” he answers, and his voice shakes only a little as he stands up, stumbling, and moves over to Akande, who straightens his back.

Even when he’s sitting, they are eye-to-eye, and Akande squares his shoulders and attempts to look unaffected, even when Zenyatta can see the bulge tenting his pants.

As he catches him looking, Akande parts his thighs, unashamed to show his desire, and Zenyatta pushes against him, their bodies flush together.

He feels Akande’s body, hard and hot, press against him, he can feel now clearer than ever the way Akande keeps himself under check, still bound yet barely, his strength under wraps when he could just–

He grinds into him, pressing himself against that clothed bulge and his valve spasms against it, wanting to unwrap it and fill himself with it until he’s left incoherent, and Akande growls, his mouth latching onto one of the sensors on the curve of his neck.

“You test my patience,” he says, lips wrapped around metal.

“Well then,” Zenyatta chuckles, breathless with heat and pleasure as he continues to grind into him, taking his pleasure from Akande, drunken with it, “testing our own virtues is a sign of growth.”

“I will show you growth, _monk_ ,” Akande bites into his sensor and Zenyatta arches into him, grinds into his bulge with desperate little thrusts, hands coming to rest on Akande’s shoulders, muscle hard and tense under his fingers.

“So you… say… yet you still remain bound.”

“I will have my fill, now or later, but… I can’t deny the appeal you have on me right now.” Akande’s mouth works viciously on his sensor, and Zenyatta’s brain falters as he presses harder against Akande’s clothed cock, desperate for friction against his nub when he’s so close– “Come, and I will feast on the sight of you, Zenyatta.”

Zenyatta shoves him backwards, putting all his weight against him and Akande goes down willingly, eyes wide open as Zenyatta above him grinds into him, his synth making quiet, needy sounds as he takes his pleasure, desperate and beautiful, until Zenyatta stutters, forehead array bright, and comes all over his lingerie pants and on Akande’s clothed chest, spurts of translucent lubrication that glisten in the low light.


End file.
